


A Guide to Challenging the Notion that You’re Totally Not in Love with Your Rival

by TrainRush



Category: A Hat in Time (Video Game)
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Denial of Feelings, Fluff, Idiots in Love, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Pining, References to Depression, Stargazing, Touch-Starved, bro theyre SO CUTE…, conductor is so oblivious it hurts, i feel the projection in this chilis tonight, mlm (morons loving morons)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-26
Updated: 2020-04-29
Packaged: 2021-02-28 03:33:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,375
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22767055
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TrainRush/pseuds/TrainRush
Summary: Discotrain (Conductor/DJ Grooves) oneshot book!—Current Part:smile“The Conductor doesn’t smile.At least, rarely sincerely.”
Relationships: The Conductor/DJ Grooves (A Hat in Time)
Comments: 28
Kudos: 178





	1. Sweet Dreams

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Conductor isn’t quite sure how to interpret a dream wherein he cuddles with his rival.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Would you like some fluff, weary traveler? A couple of lovebirds, perhaps?
> 
> _something of an apology for the amount of angst i’ve poured onto them. this might turn into a oneshot book, by the way. might. we saw how the last one ended up._
> 
> edit (3/27): i caved. it’s becoming a oneshot book.

“Every time I see you smile, I can feel myself fall in love with you all over again.”

That phrase gently carried the Conductor from the dark nothingness of sleep into the dream world.

The transition into the dream felt like a soft fizzle. The void began to fade, as though swept away by a summer breeze. He wasn’t quite sure where he was; as with all dreams, his surroundings were quite nondescript until they served some kind of importance to him. However, despite the blank and toneless nature of his dreamscape, he was aware of one thing: a pair of arms tenderly embracing him as he sat in someone’s lap. A soft, warm coat blanketing him. As more and more faded in, something else came to his attention. A soft giggle, both his and someone else’s, rang in his ears. It sounded musical.

The Conductor felt a warm feeling blossom in his chest as he relaxed into the atmosphere of this dream. It felt similar to finally being able to rest after a long day at work, or coming home to your favorite television show as a child. It was a cozy, deeply sentimental feeling. It gave off an aura of safety and belonging. Like this was where he was meant to be. The Conductor found himself engrossed in the ambience. He hadn’t felt like this in a long time.

“God, you’re so cheesy,” he murmured, snuggling closer to the bird of his dreams. The scent of lavender came to his senses.

“It’s true, though!” the bird remarked. They pulled the Conductor closer, who felt his heart flutter.

He sighed and turned his attention to the sky (which had suddenly appeared, much to his convenience). The two seemed to be stargazing, as they sat on a grassy hill watching the stars twinkle in the moonlight. The Conductor watched them dance spectacularly, multitudes of glimmering lights sparkling in and out of the sky. Some were pink, some were gold, some were made-up colors thought to be invisible to the eye. As vivid colors flashed across the sky before them, he felt the unnamed bird’s embrace soften slightly as they repurposed one hand to gently pet the feathers on the Conductor’s face.

He felt himself nearly tear up from the simple gesture, and he leaned into the other bird’s touch, occasionally letting a rouge, contented _chirp_ slip from his beak. This had to have been the most loved he had felt in far too long. He hadn’t felt this way since—

He stopped himself before the dream could transition into something unpleasant.

Instead, he let the bird speak. “You know, you’re adorable.”

The Conductor’s feathers fluffed up a little in embarrassment. “Am I?”

“Is that even a question? Look at you!” They ruffled his feathers a little. “You’re the _definition_ of adorable.”

“Oh,” the Conductor muttered, feeling his feathers raise even more and blood rush to his cheeks. “I… uh… thank you.”

Once again, silence found its way between them, and the two birds remained snuggled against each other, watching the stars quietly for the following few minutes. As he felt the sudden silence drill into his mind, the Conductor found his thoughts drifting back to the things he was trying to forget — things that could make this dream stray away into something much less tender and affectionate. Among them remained the fact that he hadn’t felt this way since before his divorce.

Again forcing the thought into the back corner of his mind, the Conductor gently began to pet the feathers of the unidentified bird he found himself cuddling. They were soft, sleek, and… light cyan?

He subconsciously chose not to take notice of that.

Quietly, the Conductor whispered to the bird, “I find it difficult sometimes… to keep going. There’s so, so many times where I just… I… wanna give up, you know? When everything gets so hard…” He sighed, leaning in closer. “But you help me so much. You give me a reason to keep going. You make me want to stay.”

The other bird nodded sadly. It was quiet for a moment before they spoke. “I’m so glad I’m helping you. Just remember that things get better, alright? It always does: trust me. Even when I’m not around.”

As the Conductor absorbed those words, he turned a little and looked up at the bird embracing him…

…and made eye contact with none other than DJ Grooves.

Shock nearly brought him out of the dream, but he stayed, clinging onto it just barely. By all means, the Conductor _should_ have been appalled. Horrified. In fear of the fact that he had just dropped all of his anxieties onto his _rival,_ of all birds. Yet, despite everything, the dream stayed the same. There was no sudden shift in tone or mood, and the atmosphere remained warm and welcoming.

This was what his subconscious mind wanted.

The Conductor, instead of fleeing like he might have had he been conscious, sighed deeply, letting himself sink deeper into Grooves’s embrace. “Thank you…” he murmured. “It’s hard to remember that sometimes.”

Sitting up just enough to be on level with Grooves, the Conductor looked up and softly planted a kiss on his cheek…

…

The dream faded away abruptly as the Conductor was startled awake by the screeching sound of an alarm clock blaring. His sleepy mind still clouded by the blurry, spinning images of his dream, he groaned, reaching over and slamming his fist into the device to make it stop. The sound stopped just as abruptly as it had begun. Eyelids heavy, he put a hand back under his pillow and slumped back under the covers. A few more minutes in bed would surely be nice. Maybe he could continue that dream.

_Hold on._

_What_ was _that dream?_

The Conductor blinked, staring at the wall as images and snippets from his dream flashed into his thoughts. He’d… what?

He sat up in surprise as the events replayed themselves in his mind. He’d been… stargazing. Somewhere. With DJ Grooves. And they were _cuddling._ Fully, consensually, _cuddling._ And he called him… adorable? And that hug was so comfortable and warm, it was almost like he could still feel it…

No, seriously, _what?_ It hardly made any sense.

The Conductor put a hand to his head as he tried to piece together what had just happened. He’d just had a dream, by far the best one in _months,_ about _cuddling with his rival._ And he _enjoyed it._ Really, truly, _enjoyed it,_ so much so that he recalled nearly tearing up at one point. Sure, he’d known that he desperately lacked affection, but was he really _that desperate?_ If so, god, that made him pathetic. Curiously, he brought a hand to the plume of feathers on his face, running a talon through them. Gently, he leaned into his own hand, cradling his head.

Okay, so _maybe_ he was a _little_ starved of affection. But that hardly gave him an excuse to be dreaming about his rival! _Grooves,_ of all birds! He (probably) smelled ~~like lavender~~ bad, he ~~had a coat big enough to keep him warm~~ dressed like a clown, and he ~~told him everything would be okay~~ probably didn’t even give two flying _pecks_ about him. Why on _earth_ would _he_ be the one the Conductor was dreaming of?

He paused to draw his hand from his face, realizing he had kept it there for too long.

 _But then again, he’s nice to you,_ his thoughts reminded him. _He never starts unnecessary arguments, and he always helps you home when you’re too drunk to stand upright…_

He snorted. Like that mattered.

_…And you have to admit, that coat of his is quite pretty. Gaudy as it may be, it suits him well. Maybe red would look good on you, too…_

He frowned, leaning back in his bed.

_…Not to mention, the coat looks comfy… if it felt so soft in the dream, I wonder what it would feel like in the real world…_

His gaze shifted from the blank wall to his trophy case. 

_…And his movies have great editing and lighting… it’s admirable, really… does he do it all himself? He can’t possibly, right? You’ll have to ask him sometime…_

Sure, his movies were _pretty,_ but that hardly spoke truth about DJ Grooves himself. He huffed, turning over onto his side.

_…He’s pretty, too._

The thought slipped his mind before the Conductor could even catch it, subconsciously buried.

_I wonder if he’s had any dreams like that one…_

Yeah, right. Internally, he scoffed, though the question remained at the back of his mind, silently becoming more genuine than he’d like.

_…What if he had? Perhaps you two were somewhere else in his… like a coffee shop. Quietly talking amongst the chatter of the cafe… holding hands under the table…_

The Conductor decided that this was going too far. He shook away the thought irritably, ignoring the slight blush that came to his face.

_…You still can’t deny that he’s an incredibly sweet guy… he’s done a lot for you in the past, you know… and the only reason he doesn’t do so as often now is because you push him too far away…_

That was for the best.

_…Why?_

He hesitated, searching his mind for an answer, but as he found that he couldn’t come up with one, he sat in dumbfounded silence. That one question echoed through his mind, taunting him. Why _did_ he push DJ Grooves so far away? Clearly, the latter wanted to get closer to him; he did small favors for him frequently, and he never trash-talked him upfront. And then Grooves also had too much integrity for the Conductor to even question whether he did so behind his back. He had brought up the prospect of a collaboration several times before, in fact, so often that the Conductor had to tell him explicitly to _shut up_ about it.

But why did he tell him that? Why did he hate Grooves so much that he could hardly even stand the mere _idea_ of a collaboration? 

_Did he even hate him, or was that something his mind made up?_

_A subconscious coping mechanism?_

_Maybe..._

No, no, no! That was silly. He did have a reason to hate Grooves, he knew it! He was just… too tired to remember what it was. Mentally hitting himself, he reminded himself that he could just go back to sleep. He wouldn’t even remember that stupid dream in the morning, anyway, so what was the point dwelling on it? Besides, it was all just pointless nonsense. It didn’t mean anything.

_You can keep telling yourself that, but you know it does._

What did it mean, then?

...

The Conductor was too tired for this. He shut his eyes to return to sleep, much to the roaring displeasure of his thoughts… and drifted away…

…Back into his dream. It was rare that a dream could return after one woke up, but it seemed he had willed it back.

As the Conductor felt the calm, inviting atmosphere of the dream and the warmth of his rival slowly return around him, he let his subconscious take over once more. He softly smiled as he relaxed into the hug, melting deeper and deeper into DJ Grooves’s embrace. Soft, cozy, and tranquil, with the light of the stars shining from above them. Of course, when he woke up, this dream would be forgotten, washed away by the sea of his thoughts. But… just for now…

…this wasn’t quite as bad as he made it out to be.


	2. smile

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Conductor doesn’t smile.
> 
> At least, rarely sincerely.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> happy two month anniversary of the last time I posted something!
> 
> sorry, this one’s real short. i’ll hopefully be able to make up for it soon though (:

The Conductor doesn’t smile.

At least, rarely sincerely.

Sometimes he’ll smile as he leaves his office for the day, his thoughts swimming with a brilliant new movie idea. When it comes, his smile is powerful, passionate, and almost mischievous in nature. But as he only ever directs two movies a year, his smile becomes scarce even then.

He smiles when he’s drunk, when his good consciousness is far too blocked by the alcohol occupying his system to even process what he’s doing. This happens far more than the former, yet when he does flash an intoxicated grin, it’s sloppy. Lopsided and silly. It’s no competition against his real smile.

The Conductor isn’t sincere. He doesn’t take pity on others. Some might say he doesn’t care at all.

He’s cold.

Empathetically absent.

DJ Grooves somewhat agrees with these sentiments. The Conductor had lost his ability to feel pity long ago. And, yes, he was empathetically absent. Most of the time. But not always.

Grooves knows that there is a part of the Conductor that never left. He hadn’t lost _everything_ when his life and mental stability hit rock bottom. He knows that he can still feel empathy. He still cares. He isn’t always cold. His real smile can still return.

His real smile was nothing like the one plastered on his face when he’s too drunk to care. It was nothing like the lost and hopeless one that he sometimes saw when the Conductor was on the verge of a breakdown. It was not even like the passionate, mischievous one that he rarely showed after a burst of inspiration.

 _That_ grin looked like how a raging bonfire sounds. A flash of sudden, burning heat. A strike of lightning hitting the ground. Like sparks flying from a blacksmith’s anvil, as the gears in his mind turned and grinded together, building his next movie. It was a truly amazing thing to behold. But his real smile was yet different still.

His real smile looked like how home feels. The scent of warm cinnamon and soft bundles of blankets. The perfect cool breeze on a spring day. His real smile was sincere, comfortable. The steady melting away of ice. Watching early morning sunrises and evening sunsets by the window with the quiet murmur of the television filling the background.

His real smile was soft and small. The slight pull of the corners of the mouth, well accompanied by a relaxed gaze.

DJ Grooves hasn’t seen his real, sincere smile in a very long time. Perhaps not even since their first few years together, just before everything fell apart.

But oh, how he misses it.


End file.
